


The Most Important Thing

by Gabri



Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Crane Operators, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabri/pseuds/Gabri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richards doesn't imagine himself the coddling type, but then again, neither do the rest of the guys. They just work as a team is all. Written for the Spiderkink meme on LJ, Spiderman and the crane operator's friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Important Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [this prompt](http://spiderkink.livejournal.com/1612.html?thread=364364#t364364) at Spiderkink on LJ.

"It's all by radio," Richards tells the new guy. "For now, you know, you gotta a wire here - this is our main cable, the problem with wireless is that batteries go dead-"

The new guy nods at him, watching his gloved fingertips gesture around. He seemed a decent sort. Paying attention, at least. Not too jumpy. Not too tall. Faint trace of a beard. His hard hat was tugged on tight, meeting the brim of his glasses.

"Fountain's there." he continues. "You get told how to adjust. It's as simple as you want it to be. You do what you get told to do, you react. Simple enough, you know, that's how we work. We work as a team."

"Okay." The new guy says.

"Give me your name again, son?"

"Miles Burton." the guy says, thumbing at his glasses nervously.

"How long you say you been doing this, Burton?"

"Four years. Never in this city." Burton looks at him for a minute, then adds "...sir."

"None of that now, don't worry." Richards claps him on the shoulder. "You tell me if you have any questions. Most important thing - safety. Nobody gets hurt while we're working." He lets his hand fall off the guy's cotton sleeve, turns to shift his view. It's not too bad an afternoon, as far as afternoons go. Definitely on the cold side. Maybe with luck they'll get away without shivering fingers, but they can bundle up. 

"Sir." Burton says. "Uh. Richards, sorry." He flickers his eyes to the new guy, and sees him leaning forward toward the skyview, one hand braced on his jean-clad thigh. His eyes are narrowed, and there's a little dent in his brow, like he's trying to solve a puzzle. Jesus, the kid can't be that confused, can he?

"Don't worry about it." Richards says again.

"Sure." Burton's tone is dismissive, but he's only squinting harder. "...is that a thermus on the iron out there?"

Richards follows his eyes. The drink is tucked a little out of view, cap sealed shut. There's hot chocolate inside, Richards filled it himself. Should still be fresh enough to warm a tongue, probably.

"Sure is." 

"Someone want to get that?" he has a bit of a scoff to his voice, and when he straightens there's an extra half inch to his posture. _Don't get cocky, kid._

"Someone will." Richard assures him, and that little dent appears between Burton's brow again, but Richard just ignores it and waves a hand at the city. "Remember now, safety first, you understand? That's our most important thing."

"Safety first." Burton repeats, and finally tears his eyes away from the mug.

The temperature drops a little past five o'clock. Richards can see a faint puff of fog hover around his mouth now when he talks. He feels warm enough, but he's not surprised when the thermus vanishes off the iron and reappears empty within arms reach of the station. 

Safety first, indeed. Thoughtful kid. Richards doesn't imagine himself the coddling type, but then again, neither do the rest of the guys. They just work as a team is all. Besides, if he's a shaking in his wool and buttoned jacket, how cold does Spiderman have to be in that thin little spandex getup? With all that wind rushing past? Christ. It makes him shiver just to think about it.

When he goes to wash the mug later, he finds a sharpied smiley face on the bottom, with wide, hallow lenses for eyes. It's a pretty weak doodle of the Spidey face, but he grins anyway.

"You're welcome, kid." he mutters warmly before scrubbing the rest clean.

\-----

It's actually the third day in when Burton finally sees him, and wouldn't you know it, Richards was with him when it happened. They're down on the ground, and he's just taking that first bite into a well-deserved ham sandwich when a hand closes suddenly over his forearm like a manacle. 

Richards snaps to attention, because there's a definite note of surprise in that grip, and surprise on a construction sight is never good. But Burton's face isn't horrified. It's just excited, and a little greedy.

"Look at that." he says in a whisper, like they're talking in front of a wild deer or something. Richard looks up and sees of one of Spidey's long, webbed legs hanging off the edge of a fixture. Burton is already craning his upper body around hopefully, trying to peek at the rest of him. "Jesus, he's just lounging there." he whispers again, but now the excitement in his tone has been kicked up a notch.

Richards chuckles. "He's probably just tired," he shakes the newbie's hand off him and goes back to that sandwich. 

Burton's lunch is totally forgotten. "We can see him closer up the ladder, in the crane." he says, looking at Richards with his eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "You know how much they'll pay for a clear shot of Spiderman? More than this labor job, I'll tell you that!"

"Let him be." 

"What?" Burton laughs, blinking at him. "Are you kidding? He's right there."

"He won't be if you go shoving a camera in his face." 

Burton stares at him for a few moments, then twists his neck back up to watch Spidey. Richards feels tempted to remind him to make use of his lunch break, but he can't blame the guy, really. It's pure amazement, it'll ebb a bit after a while. He'll learn.

It's not even ten minutes when the red line of Spiderman's leg hooks back up, and with a quick backpeddle and a flash of pale thread, he's gone. 

"Jesus." Burton says again, and Richards grins into his drink.

\-----

 

On their cheap, static TV is a constant news feed, and a month into Burton's new job, Spidey gets hurt. Bad.

Richards is halfway up the ladder when the feed starts streaming in, and the team has already become noticeably silent. The pictures show shaky clips of Spiderman, flying through the air like a missile, landing on what looks like an oversized gutter rat (only one of them, thank small favors). There's an ugly gash across his suit, somewhere beneath that little spider symbol, and it spans across his belly, showing pale skin splotched with red. 

Spiderman whirls into battle again, white silk threads engulfing the flailing creature, and the camera slides and shakes trying to catch his movement better. Richards doesn't miss the collection of pooling red dots splattered about the concrete. 

From behind him, he hears Geoffry curse something and walk away. The sound of his heavy boots snaps Richards out of his spell.

"Burton, ready the crane." he says, his 'boss' voice snapping into place firmly. "Ludo, grab some leftovers or something. Warm up a blanket, eh?"

"On it."

He catches Burton rushing off toward the controls before following Geoffry for first aid.

He was right about the new guy, it just took some warming up. Some more time wouldn't hurt - he's still got that edge of starry eyes - but at least Richards never caught him trying to sneak up with a camera. Once or twice, he saw him grinning at the sharpied bottom of their mugs, and already the guy was getting used to checking for webs or skittering bodies before moving new material.

When the supplies were ready and it was just Burton maneuvering them somewhere high and safe, the new guy finally broke the silence. "He's crazy." he said, blinking ahead at the little setup. A blanket with food and first aid folded inside. Plenty of antiseptic, Richards made sure of that. Damn rat...thing. "Spiderman's crazy. He's gonna get himself killed."

Richard doesn't answer. The news feed is still playing. It might be a while before it's done. 

"He's crazy." Burton says again, helplessly.

"He's a hero." Richards whispers, and then it's just silence, the flickering sound of the news, and the ticking of the clock.

\----

_When Peter Parker returns to his hiding spot, there's a bundle waiting there. The blanket is warm, the antiseptic is a god-send, and if there was ever a great time for re-heated chicken legs, it's now._

_His body aches fiercely. Even arriving here cleanly had been a challenge - stomach wounds, geez. There just wasn't many ways to swing without aggravating them! He curls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and pushes his mask back to his nose so he can eat._

_Four chicken legs and a gloriously fight-free breather later, he finds himself grinning at the top of a crane stupidly, sprawled, one hand on his bandaged stomach._

_"Thanks, guys." he says, and he hopes they hear._

\----

Richards tags out, and Burton takes over. He spots Spiderman dozing off lightly under a beam. 

Safety first, Burton thinks. What are friends for? And he grins for a long, long moment, a warm feeling gathering along his skin and pooling in the center of his chest where it burrows, reassured. 

Then he shifts back to work and gives the poor, tired kid some privacy.


End file.
